


This Dog is gonna Kill Me, No Really

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, in which derek is a dog, no really, staring contests
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-28
Updated: 2012-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-08 18:32:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/446215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So Stiles is walking through the woods because he's awesome and they're awesome and his best friend has abandoned him in favour of sucking face with some girl - and there's this dog. Creepy stalker dog. Creepy ass stalker dog that follows him home. And then eats his food. God damn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which Stiles finds a dog and it follows him home.

Scott doesn't care much for the woods in Beacon Hills. But Scott is a n00b. The woods are _awesome_ and sprawling and huge, and you can just kick back there and walk and Beacon Hills is so tiny that even if you get lost you're never ** _actually_** lost and the woods just seem huge when in reality they're not if you're awesome like Stiles is and have explored for, like, _ever_.

Nothing and no one will ever convince Stiles that the woods are a bad place. Occasionally bad things happen there, but they're woods. That's part of the appeal. It's what makes Stiles think he's the protagonist in some motherfuckin' werewolf movie or some shit. Like The Wolfman! only not because the protagonist of The Wolfman _is_ the wolfman and that would be terrifying and _hurt_. Poor Larry Talbot. So yeah, maybe _not_ the protagonist of a werewolf movie - he's gonna go with the **hero** instead. Only then he'd have to kill the werewolves and that would probably make him faint or something.

Somehow he thought wearing a red hoodie in the woods was a good plan. -10 points to Stilinski.

He is so not Little Red Riding Hood. He read somewhere that the whole fable of LRRH is an extended metaphor for prostitutes and those who solicit them. Stiles is so not a whore it's unreal. He's just a happy normal ~~virgin~~ guy.

So Stiles is thinking he ought to just remove wolves, were or otherwise, from this equation altogether when there's a howl and he thinks hey werewolves because it's a fucking logical leap right now and hey werewolves!

Eventually Stiles breathes and his heart rate decides to conform to the _healthy_ box because 'Oh thank God, you're just a dog.'

It cants its head to the side and just glares with these bright blue eyes - no seriously it is glaring at Stiles and then he notices that its leg is stuck in some rope and some of the neighbourhood kids are so getting the Sheriff sicced on 'em so bad.

The dog whines at him which doesn't really fit the look of the thing which is like someone crossed an Alsatian with a wolf and said _hey let's paint it black!_

Should probably get to saving the dog now.

It doesn't claw at him or try anything when he approaches. It certainly doesn't growl which he's heard they do, you know, growl at people they don't know. It's actually pretty trusting. Doesn't mean it looks pleased though. More resigned to the fact that it needs Stiles to free it and then it's gonna growl and bite and scarper.

It does growl at him, once it's free, but then it nudges his knee and Stiles' **heart** just got **_stolen_**.

Stiles suffers a small stroke when it barks and nudges him again before he realises that dogs want to be petted. So he pets it. He's never had a dog so it's awkward 'cause he's not sure what to do so it's really just three taps on the head but the dog stops nudging him and doesn't snap again.

'So,' Stiles says and then thinks that he sounds like a douche because he's in the _middle_ of the woods addressing a _dog_ for **crying out loud**.

It isn't even _his_ dog.

'So, um. I'm done here. I'mma leave you to being a dog now, go find your owner or something.'

The dog is giving him the look again. Like when it was still trapped. It's a kind of 'bitch, please' look with added contemptuous 'human' tacked on to the end. Basically it translates as the look Stiles knows all too well; it's the 'you're an idiot Stiles Stilinski.' look and he doesn't much appreciate it coming from the dog whose leg he just freed.

'That's gratitude for you.' The dog keeps at it. 'God, fine. Maybe I should've just let you stay stuck, huh?' Stiles stares at the dog and the dog stares back at Stiles and it goes on like this until Stiles is sufficiently creeped out by the constant eye contact and walks away. It sure as hell isn't his dog so he figures he has no actual reason to continue this freaky staring contest.

 

This is Stiles walking through the forest. Hey, when did it get so dark?

 

This is Stiles walking across town.

 

This is Stiles on his porch and hey this is Daddy-O opening the door - 'Hi, Dad.'

...

'What's with the dog, Stiles?'

Dog? Oh wait that dog? Stiles turns and yep - that dog. The dog doesn't even look at Stiles' dad, pleading or otherwise it just gets up and walks past him, pausing on the stairs to look back at Stiles and what the holy hell - he's being beckoned to by a dog. Is it, like, opposite day or something? Is this dog just contrary for the lulz?

'Looks like it's made you its pet, Stiles.' his dad says, flat and amused. 'You look after him while you try to find his owner.'

'How d'you - He?' Stiles is pretty sure that his father is not a vet. Pretty sure.

His dad just shrugs, 'He's all sharp angles and vicious eyes. If he claws you to death I was against this from the start.'

'Wow thanks for the vote of confidence, daddy-o.' He makes his way up the stairs to where the dog - which needs a name - is waiting impatiently, it's growling like someone just kicked it. 'What're we gonna feed him? What're we-'

'We can give him some of the meat from dinner tonight and tomorrow after school I want you to take him to the animal clinic and get him checked out, maybe buy him a collar. And you'll need some posters if you're gonna find his owner.'

'Anything else, dad?' Stiles will maintain that he doesn't whine anymore. He'd be lying but still, he's gonna stick to that story.

'Nothing else son,' he says dryly. 'You might wanna give him a provisional name though. And don't just call him dog.'

He's not even gonna grace that with an answer. 'Come on, sport.' he says to the dog which then nips his hand enough to make Stiles fear for his fingers ohgod but not hard enough to even break skin. 'Not too keen on sport, then. You're gonna be so fussy. I bet you have only the premium food as well.' He drags a hand over his face and opens the door to his room which the dog saunters into and makes himself at home on Stiles' bed for christ sake. 'Oh you are not sleeping there, limp or no limp, mister.' The dog just growls at him and the stare/mexican standoff is back.

'Stiles, grub's up!'

'On my way, dad.' He pauses and motions to the dog 'Stay. We will continue this staring competition when I get back.' He gets to the door, dog's still on the bed but Stiles doesn't trust this mother so he says it again. 'Stay.'

The dog stays silent for a moment and then barks.

'Holy crap.'


	2. In which there is a naming and it takes a while

.

.

.

 

If you ask him tomorrow he will tell you that he most certainly did not whine. Honest.

'But he answers to Dog! can't we just call him that? It's only provisional anyway and I am not going through the entire list of all the names in the world to find out that the one he answers to is like Miguel or something. God, Dad, I swear if his name's Miguel I'll do something, and it won't be nice.' Stiles waves a hand in a vague gesture. 'I hope his name isn't Miguel.'

Miguel would be a sucky name.

Apparently his Dad doesn't agree. 'Hey, maybe his name is Miguel. It'd suit him, don't ya think?'

Stiles might occasionally be an idiot but right now he's staring at proof of where he gets it from. 'Are you - you're serious? Oh God, dad, that would suck oh and did you miss the eyes of doom and ice and the black fur? His name's probably something menacing, like Killer or something. Not Miguel!'

His dad just shrugs. 'Well, there's a little meat left. Why don't you call him by Miguel and see if he answers.'

'I'm not, I won't, he won't answer to Miguel dad!' Again with the not whining. 'Nope, not budging okay.' He makes a face. 'Miguel!'

The dog doesn't appear.

'Called it,' he says because he is mighty mature and hey, he called it. 'I'mma call him Dog until I work out what I wanna call him, okay?'

'Sure, I guess for now he's your dog.'

And Stiles grins because yes he is and Stiles has a freakin' dog, dude! 'So yeah, um, Dog there's some food for you?' Did he just ask a question? To a dog, called Dog? What is that.

Dog arrives at the kitchen in breathtakingly short time, blue eyes fixed on Stiles.

'Don't think he likes the name, son.'

'Shoulda thought of that before he a) ran away from his real owners,' the dog growls at this; taking offence at owners apparently, 'and b) answered to Dog. So Dog can suck it.'

Dog barks, a little too much anger for Stiles' liking and 'Hey, I didn't need to let you into the house. My house my rules buddy,' he barks again but this time he goes to Stiles and nudges his hand.

It looks like it means Sorry.

And Stiles has a sneaking suspicion.

His suspicion is that Dog not only understands exactly what's going on, but is talking in his way through the glares and the nudges.

If he's right, Dog is okay with the name Dog for now but is fully aware that he does have a true name, and also that Dog knows Stiles is an idiot.

But Dog is currently too busy wolfing that meat down like it's the first proper food he's had in ever. No really.

'Whoa, dude. Slow down.'

Glare. Chew chew. Glare.

Fine then.

...

...

...

Eventually Dog has eaten and Stiles has retired to his room to homework. And there was much rejoicing. Yay.

'No, really Dog. I have to do this chem work of Harris will axe murder me.

So shush with the growling and quit nudging me.'

Dog says grr. It's super effective. 'Okey, Dog, what do you want?'

Dog barks.

'Doesn't help.'

This time Dog barks a grand total of three times. Short sharp barks and 'Okay, okay I get it you're barking but what do you mean?'

Dog looks around the room, like a human (no, really) and ends up walking to Stiles' notebook and lifting his paw to a word.

The word is 'StilesStilinski' because Stiles clearly cannot space.

'Yup,' he says looking at the word. 'That's my name.' 

Oh.

OH.

_**oh.** _

' _Name_!' Dog gives him a look. 'Okay, jeesh. It's not like I'm fluent in Dog or something-' Dog barks. ' _What_? Oh, you aren't pleased with Dog as a name, okay. Uhm... I know I'll give you a letter and you bark if your name starts with it!'

IT NODS!!!

Stiles thinks, 'Okay, so K?'

Nothing.

'B?'

Nope.

'N?'

Nada.

'Z?'

Zilch.

'Okay, let's try: A?'

No.

'C?'

Uh-uh.

'D?'

...

...

...

The dog barks.

'Great! So names that begin with a D.' Stiles grins. 'Is your name Doom-Dog?' Please let it be Doom-Dog, because reasons!

Doom-Dog shakes it's head.

Stiles sighs. 'Daniel?'

Nope.

This is gonna be a loooooooong evening.

.

.

.


	3. D is for Dante

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are far too fuckin' many names that begin with a D.

  
Stiles is about five seconds away from giving up and calling the dog Demosthenes or something because oh my god there are too many name that begin with a fucking D. For reals. Dude, seriously sooo many.  
  
Hey maybe Dude  would be a cool name.  
  
'So what about Dude?'  
  
The dog makes a sound like he's contemplating ripping Stiles' throat out. With his  teeth .  
  
That's a no then.  
  
'Look, so far so bad. We haven't got you a name  and I haven't done my  homework . We should probably also think about getting some photo's of you to stick on the posters.' Stiles gets his camera and points it at the dog, who whines and then actually strikes a pose.   
  
No really.  
  
He takes the picture and ...Huh. 'Huh.' The picture's covered with a massive lens flare effect. He takes another. Same thing. 'What the frack? C'mon!' Same thing happening over and over. 'What the fuck  seriously ? Is JJ Abrams directing my photography? What?'  
  
The dog looks at him like it forgot Stiles was a spaz and Stiles decides that his camera is fucked.   
  
'Hey! Maybe I'll  draw  you.' Paper and a pencil are on the desk, waiting.  
  
Dante makes the universal 'oh brother' sound in bark form and it is an  impressive feat.  
  
Now, Stiles is not an artist but Damien lends himself  extraordinarily well to being drawn. There's an odd majesty in his lines and Stiles works hard to capture that. Graceful slopes and hard attitude and magnificent blue eyes that pop off've the page like they are real. He finishes it and puts down the pencil.  
  
'What d'you think?'  
  
The dog blinks. Twice and then his eyes flicker from the drawing to Stiles' face and back again. It lifts its shoulders and hey! 'This is more than just a passable attempt you know. This is a work of art and it looks a lot like you, Demosthenes, so you can damn well like it.'  
  
He turns to the scanner and gets to work photoshopping this bitch and making one hell of a FOUND: LOST DOG poster. He prints 20, because he is not made of money, and paper, let alone laminating, is freaking expensive.  
  
He puts one before D'arcy, the apostrophe makes it  masculine , who just looks at it before barking in some tone that could be construed as grudgingly grateful by the  breathtakingly optimistic.  
  
‘You’re welcome, sunshine.’ He looks over at the clock and it is late.  And he hasn’t done any of his homework this is brilliant!  
  
Run program : stilesisgonnaberunningonadderalltomorrow.exe   
  
He changes into his jammies, and hah, Dog actually makes a point of looking away, and climbs into bed books and his laptop covering his legs from above the covers.  D is for Dog surprisingly, and no seriously: color Stiles surprised, doesn’t jump on the bed while Stiles is in it, instead opting for the floor by his bedside, curled slightly in on himself and suddenly looking very tired.  
  
Stiles stretched down a hand and strokes Dog’s head. ‘You okay?’ he asks and yes, he’s talking to a dog that he is harbouring and that he doesn’t really know.  
  
Dog looks up at him, forcing Stiles’ hand to slide down to the dog’s neck, and nods. Again. For the second time. Whoever owned this dog must be the dog whisperer or something because Stiles has never heard of dogs actually nodding at people to actually mean yes. Because that would give dogs linguistic capability and render them liable to testing and psychological experiments, more than they already are, that is.  
  
‘Good. ‘Night strange dog who followed me home.’  
  
The dog on the floor barks softly, but it knows that Stiles Stilinski was asleep before his mouth finished forming the word home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a tiny filler chapter because I am sooo busy rn. No really.


	4. Did you learn that at creeper college?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Stiles has a day, and D'artagnan seems about to kill something.

‘Ha, no. No, let go! Goddamn it D’artagnan I have to go! School Day! And no, you cannot stay inside because my father would  eviscerate me \- well he wouldn’t but he’d say he would, no he wouldn’t my dad wouldn’t say eviscerate but Dantes Something would go down.’ And that something would very much deserve the capital S it would be graced with. The dog continues to not agree, simultaneously fixing its claws into the carpet, because it is a belligerent dog, and holding the fabric of Stiles’ jeans between its motherfuckin’  huge teeth , because it is a murderous belligerent dog who probably finds the taste of denim awesome.   
  
Stiles whines, ‘please let go. And come on you must’ve been, like, wandering the woods for a while before that trap got you so it’s not like you hate the outside. Who ever heard of a dog that hates the great wide somewhere? I mean really, DeVille. Really.’ Nope, the dog is never going to move. ‘I’ll let you back in the second I get home and then I’ll bake you a cake?’ he tries it but sure enough the dog just looks at him like  hey you idiot, I can’t eat cake and also fuck you man I ain’t never gonna be your bitch  and it’s very convincing. ‘Fine. You can stay in the house but the letting go of my jean thing is non negotiable. Okay?’    
  
Apparently jeans don’t taste very nice after all because Dog lets go and just wanders past Stiles downstairs and out into the world.   
  
Stiles may be blubbering. Trying to find words  oh hey there they are : ‘You did nawt! You were just waiting to win the argument! Holy God you evil dog. You are a hell dog, Satan him elf must’ve sent you here to prey on innocent kind and thoroughly awesome teenagers, ie me, ohmygod.’ He grabs his keys and his backpack and locks the door three times over because fuck you, dog, fuck you.    
  
‘Goodbye, Demille. I will see you when I see you.’ He waves off a vulcan salute and opens the car door. The dog doesn’t appear at his ankles, surprisingly, but that would be because ‘Oh my God do you make absolutely no noise? Do they teach you to do that in hellhound creeper school. Did you pass the class? I bet you aced the class. Holy god get out of the car!’   
  
No.   
  
‘I hate you.’   
  
No , the dog looks at him,  you don’t . And then it barks, really loud and Stiles did not just jump, as if to say:  and even if you did I would not care for I am a hellhound and this is how we roll  and Stiles is aware that he is reading far too much into the glances, barks and general nuances and idiosyncrasies of a dog. Not even his dog, he may add.    
  
‘Please move.’ And Stiles is not going to beg, he isn’t he isn’t. ‘Oh God please. I will actually do anything apart from kill someone, or destroy my video games or drop my laptop or commit a felony but mostly anything. Just please, I am going to be so late and you are not helping right now.’    
  
That’s it. The dog just gets down and walks away until it’s just chillin’ on the sidewalk and for fucks sake. ‘I hate you so much.’    
  
Stiles may have broken a couple of speed limits to get to school. A couple, and he wasn’t running away from the hell dog with vicious teeth either, it was because he is a good student and cares about the possibility of being tardy. Honest.   
  
Anyway he’s here now and that’s what matters.   
  
And Scott’s like hey and Stiles is like hey back and it’s like they never left, no really. Lydia ignores him, Jackson’s a douche, Mr Harris is out to destroy his hopes and dreams but school is basically just school. Oh and there’s this new girl and then Scott starts acting a little weird but not super weird but still ‘Dude, are you okay? ‘cause you look kinda like you’re about to go out of your mind.’   
  
But nooo Scott is fine. Just in teenage love.   
  
‘Out of your league, sonny boy.  So far. Just like Lydia. But Lydia and I are like Romeo and Juliet, destined to overcome the social/school hierarchy and become one.’ Stiles will never admit that it’s hopeless, because it isn’t and IT NEVER WILL BE. ‘So yeah.’       
  
Scott’s mouth is wide enough open that he’s gonna start catching flies so as the good friend he is Stiles closes it for him. ‘Scott dude, I will set my dog on you and maybe he’ll stop eating me.’   
  
‘You don’t have a dog.’    
  
‘Eh. I have rescued a dog and I am in the process of finding its owner. Oh and you working tonight? I have to take the dog to the clinic, get him vetted and maybe buy him a collar. And I gotta put me up some posters.’   
  
Scott gives him a  wow you’re serious okay reevaluating now look and shrugs. ‘I’m working so yeah, I could help.’ Scott isn’t home right now, if you’d like to leave a message.   
  
Run Program:surviveschool.exe    
  
  
Stiles started putting up posters as soon as school finished, all around town. he’s pretty sure he has completely canvassed the area so now it’s time for the clinic.   
  
Daedalus does not look much pleased, like, at all.  You are not, human, taking me anywhere I don’t want to go  his eyes seem to say.  Also you cannot ply me with cake or treats   
  
But Stiles is happy to admit that he is a genius and that google is his best friend, occasionally above Scott. He reaches out to the dog and it lopes over to him.    
  
Turns out Damocles has a weak spot. Or just plain weakness, and that weakness is rubbing the fur just behind his ears or at his neck.    
  
Aw yes. ‘C’mon, you great sourwolf, lets get this over and done with and then you never have to go again, huh? C’mon.’   
  
The dog whines but jumps into the passenger seat of the jeep anyway, curling down and keeping its blue eyes fixed on Stiles. As they pull up to the clinic he growls, short and sharp and starts gnashing his teeth.   
  
‘Okay, okay, buddy what’s up?’ Stiles holds out a hand and almost loses it. ‘Hey, shh.’ This times he gets through threading his fingers through the dog’s fur to calm it down. ‘What’re they gonna do? Really? All we’re here for is to check that leg of yours for infection,’ he’s been limping a little and it’s not like Stiles hasn’t noticed. ‘and then maybe get you some sort of collar.’   
  
Dog pushes Stiles’ hand away and growls again, this one holds a promise.  You take me in there, you lose a limb.    
  
‘Fine,’ he says because it’s fine. He gets out of the car, Daithi does not budge. ‘Fine.’   
  
Stiles comes back with Deaton and opens the door. ‘See,’ he says. ‘Take the mountain to Mohammad.’ The dog gives  him a death glare and  howls at the doctor.   
  
‘Okay, jeez, dude chill.’ Stiles stays at a comfortable distance while Deaton takes a look at the leg, the magical man seems able to ignore the barking and the growling but he is looking at D’artagnan with some look akin to puzzlement. ‘What’s up, doc?’   
  
‘Nothing, Stiles. I just can’t work out what breed this dog is. He look like someone’s mixed a dog with a wolf.’   
  
And huh, Stiles had never really thought of that. ‘I guess he does. Can you get black wolves?’   
  
‘Yes. Anyway, I’ll get you some bandages but the good news is that the wound isn’t infected. Is he your dog?’   
  
‘No, sir. I found him stuck in some sort of trap and got him out. He kind of followed me home. I mean, I’ve put out some posters so hopefully he’ll be back to his real home in no time.’    
  
Deaton nods. ‘Good, you watch this dog, Stilinski. It doesn’t look right.’   
  
‘Yes, sir. You think it’d kill me if I got it a collar?’ It’s a good question.   
  
‘I do indeed. Have you named it?’ Been trying to.   
  
‘It seems to like names that begin with D, but I haven’t found it-his real name yet.’ Stiles shrugs.   
  
Deaton smiles a little. ‘Maybe Derek?’   
  
Inside the car still growling death growls the dog’s ears prick up and it turns to Deaton, glaring.   
  
Stiles shrugs again. ‘Maybe, thanks doc.’ and he gets in the car, with the dog still watching Deaton with wary eyes and starts the engine. ‘So  is your name Derek?’   
  
The dog just barks.   
  
That settles that then.    



	5. You did so not name him Aloysius, I mean really

‘Yo, Dad?’ Stiles calls from his room. ‘Three things, a) I think the dog’s name’s Derek, 2) who the hell names a dog Derek and III) Where is the dog Derek?’   
  
‘Yo, son. Answers: Cool, someone and I don’t know it’s your responsibility.’ Is the answer, pretty damn good answer. ‘Also, in roman numerals you don’t say i i i you say three.’    
  
‘I know that! I was demonstrating a trohmygod!’   
  
‘What the hell is a trohmygod?’   
  
‘What if Derek’s run back to his owner? What if he’s  been run over!? Dad what if he’s dead and the owner comes ‘round waving the found poster and we have to explain that we killed their dog?’   
  
‘You’d have to explain that you killed the dog. I was against this from the start and relax he’s probably just having a walk around. Have you even been taking him for walks?’ A+ parenting by Sheriff Stilinski, there.   
  
‘He is built like a tank, he could use some couch days!’  No really, he could! the thing’s like a killing machine. ‘No dad really, where is the dog? I haven’t seen him since ever.’   
  
‘I’m guessing ever means last night right? Well he sleeps by your bedside so he can’t have gone far seeing as I actually lock the doors at night-’   
  
‘Then why and how is he not in the house!?’   
  
‘Calm down, Stiles and don’t freak out. The door’s been unlocked from the inside’.   
  
‘He’s a dog!’   
  
‘Did I insinuate for a second that this was the fault of the dog? Maybe I just forgot, it’s the back door anyway. Sometimes I forget.’   
  
‘Comforting.’   
  
‘Sheriff.’   
  
‘Doesn’t really help when you’re being strangled in your sleep.’   
  
His dad sighs the sigh of someone who is absolutely, but fondly, exasperated. ‘Get up, Stiles. You are going to be late for school. You can look for the dog tonight.’ There’s a pause. ‘Also, Adderall. Less of it.’   
  
Stiles headdesks, because somehow in his circling of the room while pulling his, really fucking short, hair out he found his way to his desk. As if the internet is going to help him find and dog who might be able to open, unlock even, doors in human houses. He should have put an ankle monitor on that damn dog.   
  
He hears the keys jingle and the squad car start and drive off.    
  
Then he starts to really panic. It goes a bit like this: ‘Ohmygodohmygodderekwhereareyou?yourownerisgoingtokillme!’   
  
Run program: Calmthefuckdown.exe    
  
There is a knock at the door.   
  
Naturally Stiles’ thought immediately zero in on the fact that this is totally gonna be Derek’s owner and that anyone capable of owning that dog is totally capable of breaking Stiles’    
everything.   
  
He takes a deep breath.   
And a couple more.   
  
Fuck it. Damn it all... to hell!   
  
A couple of minutes later he opens the door. And wow, a) hot, 2) this person is Derek Hale.   
  
‘You’re Derek Hale, what are you doing here?’ And Stiles should just never open his mouth because wow rude.    
  
Hale raises an eyebrow, breathtakingly controlled eyebrow raise - Stiles is going to die. Derek Hale is built like a truck. Stiles is already dead.   
  
‘Sorry, that was rude,’ he rushes to add. ‘But the question still stands.’   
  
It is now that Stiles notices the poster in Hale’s hand. Fuck.   
  
‘Dog.’ says Derek Hale and wow monosyllabism.    
  
Stiles feels his own eyebrows launch into his hairline.   
  
‘The dog, that we have have worked out answers to Derek. Is your dog?’   
  
Hale looks a bit shocked at this but shrugs. ‘Yes,’ he grunts.   
  
‘Didn’t sound very sure there, buddy.’ He is dead. He just called Derek Hale buddy. Dead. So dead. Game Over. KO. DOOMED.   
  
‘Look, the dog’s name isn’t actually Derek. I guess he just answered to that because he recognised it.’ And yay, thinks Stiles. Relative eloquence. ‘Where is he?’   
  
Stiles shifts his weight a bit, bites his lip. ‘I kinda sorta might have lost him, or rather I guess he ran away. Can he really run away from me, seeing as he’s not mine?’   
  
Derek’s face is still essentially as impassive as it has been this entire time and the eyebrows aren’t even raised now. ‘Ran away.’ he repeats back at Stiles. ‘Should’ve taken the posters down then.’   
  
‘Hey, mister. I only worked out that your dog had left me when I woke up this morning, okay? I was going to on my way to school if he didn’t, ya know, jump out of the foliage at me. At least now you know that you’re gonna have to look for your dog harder. It’ll be like a test of your love for him because now you gotta search without helpful posters. No hint button.’ Derek’s eyebrows have been steadily rising throughout this rant. Stiles thinks he probably ought shut up now. ‘What is his name anyway?’   
  
Derek blinks. ‘Aloysius’     
  
The fuck it is. Stiles went through the A option.    
  
Stiles shrugs and turns his back on Derek to close his door and lock it. He starts to walk past Derek when his arm gets captured.   
  
‘Help me look for him, he can’t have gone far.’ Derek’s voice is quiet. He must really miss the dog.   
  
Still, Stiles is all set to say no but shit Hale has some puppy dog eyes on him. He sighs.    
  
‘I have school,’ he explains. ‘But maybe after I’ll help you.’   
  
Derek Hale smiles at him (killer smile) and lets go of his arm.   
  
‘Thanks.’   
  
Derek Hale exit stage driveway.    
  
Stiles blinks a little spastically.    
‘Okay then,’ he mutters. ‘Nice seeing you again. Derek Hale.’   
  
The man, older boy, person, pauses a little but Stiles doesn’t notice this because jeepy and school need him. But it happens.   
  
Derek Hale shakes his head lightly and walks away.   
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a bad person with procrastination issues and about a five second ability to focus on just one fic. I AM SO SORRY


End file.
